The Hired Girl(65)

“But Moonstone’s so little, and she hasn’t any mother,” I wept.

Mr. Solomon took the handkerchief away from Moonstone and handed it to me. “Tell me, Janet,” he said, “do you love this kitten enough to want a good home for her, even if she has to live somewhere else?”

I didn’t want to answer. I knew where the conversation was tending. I sobbed harder on purpose. I’m ashamed that I did that, because it wasn’t fair. It was feminine wiles; that’s what it was, and I don’t think much of feminine wiles.

“You have to answer me,” he said, not unkindly, but firmly. “Would you be willing to give the kitty up if you could be sure she was happy and safe?”

I looked down at Moonstone. His wide blue eyes were fixed on the handkerchief. He — no, I must learn to write she — didn’t like it that the game had stopped. I brushed the handkerchief against the floor, and she leaped forward and caught it between her paws. Then she rolled over on her back and bit the cloth, fierce and merry at the same time. Oh, her little tail, her pink-padded paws, the sweet triangle of her face!

“Yes,” I said wretchedly.

“Then I’ll help you,” said Mr. Solomon, and he smiled his sweet-for-a-man smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t give up until I’ve found her a good home. We’ll start with my sister Anna. She’s afraid of mice, which is good. And I think Oskar’s old enough to be gentle with a kitten.”

I wasn’t sure whether I liked that idea or not. Mrs. Friedhoff seems like such a shadowy person, nice, but dull, and Oskar seems like a snake lover, not a kitten lover. On the other hand, the Friedhoffs live nearby, and I might be able to visit Moonstone if she went to live there. “She isn’t trained,” I said, remembering the mess in the room.

“I’ll tell Anna to keep a box of sand in the house,” Mr. Solomon assured me. “It’s easy to train them, if you have a box of sand.”

A box of sand. I’d never have thought of that. “What if she says no?”

“I think I can talk her into saying yes. If she doesn’t, one of Mother’s bridge ladies lost her pug dog a little while ago. I might be able to persuade her to try a kitten.” He reached for Moonstone and gathered her up. “I’ll go see Anna right after breakfast. Can you find me a basket, or a cardboard box with a lid?”

My heart tightened. “Do you have to take her right away?”

He nodded. “When you ask people if they want a kitten, they say no. But if they see the kitten, it’s a different matter.”

I could see this. But I could also see something else — that my time with Moonstone was at an end. Right after breakfast, Mr. Solomon would take her away. I started to cry again, but this time it wasn’t feminine wiles.

I’m shedding tears as I write this, but I’m almost finished. Mrs. Friedhoff did take Moonstone, and Oskar made her a little house out of a baby quilt and a cardboard box. Mr. Solomon says Oskar spends a lot of time dragging little pieces of string across the floor so Moonstone can chase them. And Anna — I mean Mrs. Friedhoff — has promised that some night when she and Mr. Friedhoff go out, I can look after Oskar and see Moonstone again.

So I am grateful. I have to be grateful. But I’m sure that Moonstone was meant to be my cat, not Oskar’s, not Anna’s, not even Mimi’s. (Mimi isn’t half as sorry as I am that Moonstone’s gone. I think she’s a very fickle sort of girl.)

After Mr. Solomon came back, he asked if I would do something for him. I said, “Anything.” Because I would do anything for him, but I would prefer it to be something heroic, like saving him from a burning building, or helping him win the hand of Nora Himmelrich. It turned out that what he wanted was for me to forgive Mrs. Rosenbach — not only forgive her but apologize to her. Apparently she told him I flounced when she said I couldn’t keep the kitten, and Tuesday night, everyone could hear me banging the plates when I loaded the dumbwaiter. It seems I’m not supposed to flounce or bang plates. I guess hired girls shouldn’t have any feelings.

I didn’t want to forgive Mrs. Rosenbach, but Mr. Solomon looked very earnest and pleading. He said Mrs. Rosenbach was hurt by my ingratitude. I wouldn’t have thought that anything I did could hurt someone like her, but I guess I should be grateful. She pays me well and she bought me two dresses that are a lot nicer than they have to be. All the same, I wish Mr. Solomon hadn’t asked me to forgive her, because I was kind of enjoying being angry. On the other hand, I’m supposed to forgive people; I’m trying to be a good Catholic.